


Ghost and the Machine - Happy Ending

by rebelmeg



Series: The Ghost and The Machine [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Banter, Drinking, Gen, Ghost Tony, Ghosts, Hangover, Happy Ending, Hospitalization, Implied future Pepperony, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Nothing really changes, Snark, Spies & Secret Agents, Spy Bucky, besties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:19:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22110166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelmeg/pseuds/rebelmeg
Summary: The happy ending to the cliffhanger inThe Ghost and The Machine!  Picks up exactly where we left off.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Tony Stark
Series: The Ghost and The Machine [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550425
Comments: 14
Kudos: 49





	1. Either Really Bad, Or Really Good

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of the three endings!

For several seconds, Bucky stared at the photograph, completely shocked.

It was… it was Tony. There was no mistaking it. But _how_ …

He flipped back to the first page of the file, reading through the information as fast as possible.

The mission with Romanoff in Europe, the night that Tony had first appeared. Bucky had taken the shot in Lichtenstein, and taken out the target, Obadiah Stane.

And then his bullet had gone through the wall… and hit Stane’s business partner, Tony Stark, who had made an unplanned, unannounced visit.

Tony Stark, the billionaire weapons developer-turned-clean energy mogul, Bucky had to have seen the guy’s face on TV half a dozen times in the past few years. How could he not have recognized him?

Logic told Bucky that there was no way he would be able to remember every face he ever saw on the news, especially since he didn’t keep up with it, but he was still too stunned to really reason his way through anything.

He kept flipping through pages, most of them containing the evidence of Stane’s steady efforts to secretly continue manufacturing and dealing weapons under the table, and more than likely without Tony’s knowledge. His deals with terrorists and up-and-coming anarchist groups had put him on the CIA watchlist in a bad way, enough that he’d been dealt with.

Finally, Bucky found what he was looking for. A progress sheet about collateral damage, and stapled to it, a report from a hospital.

With a strangled gasp, he read the words “patient is alive, and in a persistent coma.”

Sagging he nearly dropped the file, a horrible squeezing around his heart finally relenting. 

He hadn’t killed Tony. He’d shot him, but he hadn’t killed him. Tony was… Tony was _alive_.

* * *

As if he’d been summoned by Bucky’s thoughts, Tony floated right up through the floor next to him. “You done yet, Buckster? Black Widow cracked her guy like a nut like half an hour ago and I’m really bored.”

“Tony…” Bucky was looking at him with an indescribable expression, eyes wide, and the file in his hands was shaking.

Feeling strangely afraid, Tony hesitated. “What? What is it?”

“Tony, you—” Bucky croaked, looking down at the file. “You’re alive.”

“Wh—” Tony was at Bucky’s shoulder in an instant, looking down at whatever had Bucky so spooked (ha, that was funny).

He did not expect… to see his own face looking back up at him.

After stalling out for a second, he took in the rest of the visible information, seeing the words _civilian, victim, casualty, critical condition, coma, awaiting witness account_. And… _responsible party: James B. Barnes._

“Bucky…”

“I shot you. It was me. Tony, I… I nearly killed you.”

Tony didn’t actually have a body, but it still felt numb. “I’m still alive.”

Bucky looked back down at the file. “You are. You’re… in a coma. But you’re alive.”

Tony could feel his mouth opening and closing, no idea what he was trying to say, or if he was even trying to speak at all. The numbness felt like it was getting worse, and he briefly wondered if it was possible for ghosts to go into shock.

Bucky was talking, and it took him a second to focus on the guy.

“—ta find you, if you’re still alive, maybe there’s a way to get you back in your body, wake you up.”

“Bucky.”

“It was your business partner, he was dealing under the table and selling weapons to terrorists, you weren’t supposed to be there—”

“Bucky.”

His voice was getting fainter, the words harder to decipher, and Tony concentrated very hard to make himself heard. “Bucky!”

“I—what? Tony?” His eyes widened in alarm. “Tony?!”

Right before his eyes, Tony’s hands were fading, and not because he was making himself invisible. He was fading.

“This is either really bad, or really good,” He mumbled, his whole face numb now, not able to feel his mouth making the words that got quieter with every moment. “Buck, I don’t know what’s happening…”

With a painful thump of his heart, Bucky watched in horror as Tony disappeared entirely, his mouth still moving as it always did, but with no sound coming out.

* * *

Opening his eyes was like trying to make a sandcastle with dry sand, a lot of work that didn’t go very far. But he managed it. 

His lips and mouth weren’t working very well, but he managed to rasp in a voice that was hoarse from disuse, “Holy crap, nobody is ever going to believe this.”

“Mr. Stark?” A shocked voice got Tony’s attention, and he craned his stiff neck towards it. A nurse was looking at him like he’d suddenly come back from the dead (ha, another funny, he kind of had!), and he rushed to Tony's side. “Mr. Stark, can you hear me?!”

“Yup. Hiya. Got any water in this joint, I’m dying over here.”

That sent him right into a tizzy, and he all but stabbed the emergency call button as he hollered for a doctor. Tony couldn’t help but chuckle weakly, taking stock of the various aches in his body, the pain in his chest, the weakness of his muscles, and how delighted he was to be alive.

“Hey, nurse, sir, I’m a writer and I wonder if I’d be able to ask you some research questions…”

* * *

Bucky was shaking like a leaf as he walked down the hall in the hospital, tracking the numbers on the doors. 17. 17. There it was, down to the left.

He heard proof of what he was hoping for before he saw it, and he laughed with relief, sagging in his skin, when he heard that familiar voice coming out of the half-open door.

“What does that one measure? Yeah, that one. Really? So if I do this—”

A beeping alarm went off, and Bucky had to cover his mouth to smother his laughter, tears coming to his eyes.

“Oops. Sorry.”

A long, steady tone sounded next, and Tony spoke over it.

“Wait, is that my heart monitor? Am I dead again?! What are you doing, that’s my personal chest. Ouch!”

The beeping resumed.

“Oh, right, they said not to move those things. Fine, I’ll hold still. Sheesh. What’s put a wad in your scrubs?”

Bucky quickly scrubbed at his eyes, then ducked into the room and leaned his shoulder against the wall, grinning fit to bust. “I can’t believe you’ve been awake for less than six hours and you’re harassing the hospital staff right into nervous breakdowns.”

Tony looked over at him, and a huge grin broke over his face. It didn’t even matter that he was pale and gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes and a thick bandage covering half his chest. His eyes were bright and there was no mistaking that mischievous Cheshire Cat tilt to his mouth.

“Guess what, Buckaroo.”

“What?”

Tony held up a laptop and wiggled it slightly for emphasis, nearly knocking his nurse's arm aside as she leaned over to adjust the bandage on his chest. “I can finally write it all down. I’M GONNA BE FAMOUS!”

Bucky didn’t bother cover his laugh that time, he just let it go, and if it got a little bit hysterical near the end, Tony didn’t say anything, he just chuckled along. Though the nurse did give him a bit of a side-eye, so he was a bit relieved when she made a note about Tony's vitals on the whiteboard near the door and left the room.

“Oh man. Tony. I can’t believe this. You’re… you’re here.”

“I am! And check this out.” He picked up a spoon off the rolling tray next to him and lobbed it at Bucky. “I can touch things now.”

Bucky snorted, catching the spoon and tossing it back at him. “Not sure that’s a good thing. We’ll see.”

“Yeah, fair. Oh! Hey! You killed my business partner.”

Bucky rubbed at the back of his neck, wincing. He wasn’t ready to be done with the relieved part of his day yet. “Yeah. I did.”

Tony was looking at him very seriously. “He was like a father to me.”

 _Aw, shit_. “Tony…”

“But it sounds like you did me a favor. Thanks.”

Um… “Oh. You’re… welcome?”

Tony gestured to the bandage on his chest. “You shot me too, though, what the hell?!”

With another laugh that had just the slightest edge of crazy to it, Bucky walked right over to the hospital bed and threw his arms around his friend.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Iron Man.”

If Tony sounded a little bit choked up as he hugged Bucky back, neither of them said anything about it. “Thanks, Machine. I missed it.”


	2. All's Well That Ends Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's NOT going to be committed, Tony's going to be famous, and Bucky has a couple new drinking buddies.

Bucky spent half the day at the hospital, laughing as Tony rediscovered his love for being corporeal, groaning as Tony began peppering him with questions about what had happened in Lichtenstein, and shaking his head when Tony all but crowed from the little ensuite bathroom, “This is my first time taking a leak in like a month and a half, what a glorious occasion!”

He also met Pepper and Rhodey, the two people that belonged to the names on Tony’s arm. Rhodey was a Lieutenant Colonel in the Air Force, and Tony’s best friend from college. Pepper was his PA (and Bucky suspected she and Tony both harbored much deeper feelings), and Tony wasted no time introducing them to “the spy that accidentally shot me.”

Bucky excused himself shortly afterwards, knowing how badly Rhodey and Pepper wanted some time with Tony (both of them had been near tears when they’d come dashing into the hospital room), and promised Tony he’d visit the next day. He was halfway home when Barton texted him, asking how it went, and Bucky really couldn’t think of a good way to explain any of it, but he invited Barton over anyway. Explaining it in person would be better, probably. Maybe.

The guy didn’t waste any time, only waiting long enough for Bucky to hand him a beer and offer him a seat on the couch before he fixed Bucky with a sharp gaze and said, “So… tell me how you know the coma guy that you apparently accidentally shot?”

Bucky glanced at Barton, unsure as he considered everything, then figured… well, might as well go for it.

“You are gonna think I’m absolutely crazy.”

Barton just shrugged. “To be fair, most of us think you’re at least half crazy, so go ahead. Try to surprise me.”

Bucky took a deep breath, and just spit it out. “Before he came out of his coma, Tony Stark was a ghost that was haunting me.”

Bucky just… blinked, several times. 

“I break you, Barton?”

“You, uh… you might have.”

“Yeah.”

It only took three minutes of Bucky trying to explain before Clint stopped him, disappeared into the bathroom to make a phone call, and came back announcing that Nat was on her way too.

Bucky could feel himself blanch at the thought of the Black Widow coming to his apartment. “You’re not gonna snuff me, are you? Because I was _really_ looking forward to waking up tomorrow and drinking my coffee in utter and complete silence, all by myself.”

Without a word, Clint picked up the remote and turned on the TV. “You got cable?”

Bucky wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh, have a nervous breakdown, or cry. Which, honestly, compared to the last month and a half, just sounded like a Tuesday.

Romanoff had two bottles of vodka and a six-pack of beer with her when she arrived, and she handed off one of the vodkas to Bucky as she came through the door, and the beer to Clint who was making grabby hands from the couch. She settled herself next to Clint, popped the lid on her vodka, took a gulp right out of the bottle, then fixed Bucky with a hard stare.

“Alright. Let’s hear it.”

* * *

Well over three hours later, most of the vodka was gone, Clint was working on his last beer, and the three spies were sprawled out on the couch in drunken stupors.

“You wanna know the crazy part?” Natasha said from her scrunched position on one end of the couch, feet draped over the arm, draining the last of the vodka in her bottle. Only the slightest slur hinted at the fact that she was three sheets to the wind and wouldn’t be able to stand up if her life depended on it.

Bucky grunted a rough approximation of a reply from the other end of the couch where he was lying across the arm of it like a sloth, trying to decide if he did actually have two TVs or if he was cross-eyed.

“I actually believe you.”

For no good reason, Clint started to giggle, and his slurring was much worse than Natasha’s. “All th’s time, we jus’ thought you were jus’ goin’ crazy!”

“Kinda was,” Bucky muttered, trying to take another swallow of vodka and banging the bottle against his lip instead. “He’s annoying as all hell.”

“But you’re friends.” Natasha pointed out, slowly sliding sideways until she bumped into Clint, letting her head rest on his knee.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, taking more care this time with the bottle. “We’re friends. You wanna meet him?”

“I do!” Clint tried to sit up, but seeing as how his legs were up over the back of the couch and he was lying down on the seat with his head hanging off the edge, he gave up pretty quick. “I wanna meet him!”

Bucky nodded, whining a little when he dropped his vodka, staring at it as it rolled across the floor. Silence fell again, the deep thinking silence that existed around people that were absolutely sloshed, and Clint had just started snoring when Natasha reached over and poked Bucky in the butt.

“Barnes, I was two signatures away from having you committed. I’m glad I don’t have to follow through on that now.”

Feeling like he’d just had his top layer of skin removed, Bucky nodded mutely through his drunken haze. “Me too.”

The assassin sharing the other end of his couch was the scariest person he’d ever known, and he’d been recently haunted by a ghost.

* * *

“Bucky! I can hear you lurking in the hall, get in here, Machine!”

Bucky sighed long-sufferingly as he entered the hospital room the next day, having paused in the hall to text Clint and Natasha to see if they’d gotten home safe (they’d all been so hungover that Natasha had pulled a knife out of her bra and threatened to slit the throat of the next person who breathed too loudly.) 

“What’s up, Ghostbuster?”

Tony was sitting cross-legged on the hospital bed with his laptop on his knees, fingers flying over the keyboard. “I hate that that nickname is now actually fitting. Sit down and shut up, I have a question.”

“Oh, geez, Tony, I just spent a over six weeks as your personal secret agent, what questions could you possibly still have?!” Bucky fell dramatically into the chair at the side of the bed. 

Tony glared and pointed a finger at him threateningly. “Hey, I almost _died_ , as penance you’re gonna help me choreograph this fight scene. How important is footwork when there’s a scuffle going on over the control of a gun? And gimme details, I want this to be realistic.”

Shaking his head, but absolutely unable to wipe the smile off his face, Bucky kicked his feet up on the edge of Tony’s bed and started to answer.

“I mean, it depends on how good your opponent is, really. Say you’re dealing with another professional, it’s gonna be a lot more important…”

And they lived annoyingly, childishly, amusedly, happily ever after.


End file.
